


you're with me now

by macaroonie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boys In Love, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, somehow still fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-02-25 18:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13218597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macaroonie/pseuds/macaroonie
Summary: Last Wednesday, they kissed saying goodbye after the movie at his room. It wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but it was the first time something like – well.The way Hunk held his arms – a little too tight, mouth on mouth like it was everything – then how he backed away very quickly, then said goodnight, human things, like he was holding himself so tightly back – well. Keith’s been thinking about it.the first time but certainly not the last





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hot damn even though vld is a trash heap and i don't read fic any more i wrote this ages ago and I LOVE MY BOYS  
> i may be inspired to write more of this ! there are so many shenanigans in the world  
> also happy nye lads 
> 
> oh also i imagine this is set in the future where they are still paladins but things have lightened up for them both. both the boys are at least 18!

Last Wednesday, they kissed saying goodbye after the movie at his room. It wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but it was the first time something like – well.  
The way Hunk held his arms – a little too tight, mouth on mouth like it was everything – then how he backed away very quickly, then said goodnight, human things, like he was holding himself so tightly back – well. Keith’s been thinking about it.   
Keith is, in fact thinking about that now. It’s ridiculous, considering they live together and also see each other all the time, but dates feel very different. He wouldn’t stare at Hunk’s smile in normal life – well, yeah, he would. That’s why they go on dates. It’s a three hour long excuse to look at each other and not be shouted at by the rest of the team.   
This is missing the point.   
They hum and fit together so nicely when it’s just the two of them, and he gets to look at Hunk all night, and he doesn’t want it to end. It’s the highlight of his week, when they get to spend time together. 

When they get to the castle again, Hunk says, a little shyly, “So this was fun. Wanna, ah. Wanna come back to mine and make out?”  
“Uh, yeah.”

They grin like it’s a secret even though the whole ship knows, and Hunk twitches his hand towards his like he wants to take it. The walk back is now silent. Keith tries desperately to think of something funny to say but his head gets full of thinking of how nice it’s going to be to kiss him for a long while, uninterrupted. 

Keith hasn’t been in Hunk’s room for a long time, and the walls are covered in drawings and diagrams and photos of the places they’ve been and it’s almost, almost, a mess.  
Hunk instantly kicks off his shoes and takes off his coat like he can’t wait another second and slumps down onto his – surprisingly – made bed, watches Keith try to find a hook on the back of the door for his jacket. He chuckles nervously and fidgets, but doesn’t move his eyes away.  
“Do I seem a bit eager? Sorry –“  
“No. It’s fine!”  
This was the right thing to say.   
It makes Hunk look him right in the eye and relax a little, patting the bed.  
“Come here then, yeah?”

Keith hasn’t really done this before. He never really dated before. He never dated anyone like Hunk, that’s for sure, wouldn’t have known how to ask or look for it without the time they’ve spent together showing him.   
Anyway.  
What he’s trying to say is that it never got to the room stage, with anything, even though he’d had sex, yeah.  
Living on a space ship skirted right past that problem, because outside was just – space, and they did the Galaxy Mall the time before last, so. There was nowhere else to go apart from rooms. Right now, there’s nowhere else to go apart from Hunk’s bed.   
Not like that.   
Making out, he said.   
He feels nervous, but certainly not bad, just wondering what this is gonna be.

(He’d held his arms so tightly when they said goodbye.)

The second his ass hits the covers, Hunk, all of him, is around Keith, murmuring suddenly and hotly into his ear, “Is this alright?”, big warm hand gripping the other shoulder and searing straight through his skin.   
It’s Hunk, of course he’d be like this, he’s terrified right up until he’s absolutely not. 

Then their lips meet. You can say lots of things about kissing. It’s very nice. 

Much quicker than he’s used to, tongue appears, forceful, practiced. Keith presses his thighs together.  
Hunk has mentioned he liked his hair and proves it now by carding his hands through the fluff at the back of his neck, the contact shocking, and just keeping his fingers there, pulling them closer if that could be possible.

Hunk says “Hmm?”  
He must have asked a question, but Keith can’t remember what he asked and doesn’t reply, forgetting how to, just feeling the blunt fingertips moving, slow.   
“Keith, is this alright? People said I, aha, can come on a little strong.”  
He opens his eyes that he didn’t realise he had tightly shut. Looking straight into Hunk’s warm, wide face, white teeth pulling on a lip.

Between them the tension crackles, then cracks when he huffs out a laugh.   
“It’s fine! Don’t worry. This is nice. I like it when you touch my hair.”

“Like this?”  
Hunk pulls a little harder and it could be a smirk on his face but his eyes are really asking is this okay?

He feels warm and lovely, not used to this focus on every minute change in expression or sensation. It’s especially nice from Hunk. Hunk is a lot when he’s a lot, and good at so many things, and – suddenly, he puts his mouth onto Keith’s neck, tugs the fistful of hair and kisses at the same time, and – yeah. He’s good at this too. Of course. 

While he is tensed up and waiting for the next sudden electric movement from Hunk, feeling the AC of the castle blowing on the spit on his neck and his lips, Hunk does the most surprising thing he could, just fitting his nose behind Keith’s ear and breathing out, “Fuck, you smell good.”   
It makes him want to squirm further away and closer at the same time, and sets his stomach knotting up.

Keith is having some thoughts.  
He is half embarrassed that he’s getting to hard in his trousers, that he can feel every touch of Hunk’s huge hands through his t-shirt like it’s on his dick.   
But, on the other hand, he can tell that Hunk is nervous too, for all he’s succeeding in – far too quickly – reducing Keith to a blushing mess. He’s pushing him, testing him for something else.

They take a breather, but are still almost on top of each other. Hunk’s arms stay wrapped around him, so strong. His huge chest rises and falls. Keith feels this, and tries to answer the question that Hunk is definitely not asking.   
He leans back to take off his shirt.   
Even that tiny motion makes Hunk retract his hands like he’s been burnt.   
(Keith wonders who’s told him they can’t touch them, because the way Keith’s feeling right now he could touch him all he wanted for a couple of days, weeks maybe.)

When he understands, however, he grins lopsided and delighted and shifts his legs. Keith tries and fails not to notice that he’s half hard too, and gulps. 

The room feels very cold minus both a shirt and Hunk-contact. He supposes he should feel weird being the only half-naked one here, but he can’t muster the energy when Hunk says “Get your toned ass over here, my man,” a little choked, and reaches for him, the bare minimum of space between them.

He tries walking over on his hands, and when he’s roughly where he was before Hunk says, “Now definitely tell me if this is too much,” and before he can protest, Keith, who is certainly not light, is lifted and placed onto Hunk’s strong thigh. 

Hunk stares at his neck like he can’t help himself.   
Keith tries to say this is fine, even gets as far as thinking the words this is fine, but all that happens is his breath rushes out and he can’t look down, or anywhere, and thinks about how close his dick is to Hunk’s leg and how easily he lifted him up. 

They kiss for a second but he has the feeling that Hunk wants to say something. Then Hunk bites down, soft, kind of, and he can’t help but make a tiny noise, and whatever happens makes him pull back very quick and say roughly “Right. OK. So.”

He’s pretty sure he hasn’t done anything wrong. This is going great. He thought.   
Hunk’s pupils are wide and his eyes keep getting stuck on Keith’s mouth, but he honestly can’t blame him here. 

“Keith. There’s something I should tell you. I like being – this is so stupid to say out loud, god – dominant. But like. Not in a scary way. I like making people feel good. I am invested strongly in making sure you feel good. Anyway, whaddya think, it’s if you’re up to it, Keith, it’s fine if you’re scared off, we don’t have to do anything –“

He’s thinking. Hm. It does make sense, and Hunk is certainly more experienced with all of this, and – Hunk shifts his thigh and Keith feels it ring from his spine to his dick.  
Fuck it. He’s down. Hunk’s not going to do anything too weird. 

“Go slow. But. I’m down. I think. No scary shit?”  
“’Course. Could I ever do anything scary?”  
They lean in at the same time and Hunk chuckles when their noses bump. 

“Wait though. Keith. Does that mean you’re cool with me being a, uh, freak?”  
Ah, this is what he’s been nervous about all night.

It’s hard to put a coherent argument together when it’s like his dick is a compass pointing him towards Hunk, but he makes an effort.   
“Yeah. Well.” He shrugs. Talking. Talking.

“I think you’re hot, I trust you not to do anything too weird without asking me first, and –“ he can’t help laughing but keeps going, “I really wanna get my dick sucked.”

A beat of surprise, then Hunk laughs too. When they stop, his eyes are dark and soft. “I can do that, I think. Also I’m very glad you said yes because I have not been able to stop thinking about this, holy crap.”

He grins, huge and open like the rest of him but also aimed directly at Keith, like he can’t believe how lucky he is. Things settle down between them for another endless beat, although Keith is still perched on top of him, and he can’t really ignore the closeness of them both and what it’s doing to him. Keith maybe gets a bit lost in his eyes. 

Then, slow, well telegraphed, Hunk leans in and – no asking this time – he fits his palm on Keith’s neck. He takes his time, kisses along his jaw and ear sweetly, just letting him know – what? That he’s here, all of him, all of this many scarred body? That he’s Hunk’s right now and maybe tomorrow too and that Hunk needs to know this new terrain so he can figure out what makes it work?

“I’m going to play with your nipples now, is that ok?” says Hunk in an entirely new voice. 

His left hand almost moves away from Keith’s neck but he makes a minute sound of no that Hunk, magical man, understands.  
“I should ask - what’s good to touch and not? I kind of want to, uh, touch all of you, so you gotta let me know if something’s not good. Fuck - you’re – Keith, you’re beautiful. I can’t believe I get to do this.”  
“All over. Whatever you want.” His voice comes out hoarse.

“Mm. OK.”  
And just like that he leans down – he hardly has to, the size difference between them is so big – and takes one of Keith’s nipples in his mouth.   
He almost jolts off the bed, making Hunk pause, but manages “No, keep going,” and covers his red face in embarrassment. 

Moments pass.   
Then the other hand sets its short nails into Keith’s ribs and drags, so slowly he feels like he’s going to die, and Hunk bites.  
As much as he’d like to deny it, he moans.

“Please touch me, Hunk, fuck.”  
“Please, huh? Haven’t heard that from you in while.”  
“Don’t – don’t do this now, you big dork. Come on.”

Hunk hums, unaffected, and moves parts of his body in ways that make Keith’s body feel very good. If asked, he would confess he is especially a fan of his nipples being pinched, except the only person who would ask is Hunk and he already fucking knows. 

“I’ll touch you when I want to. Not before then. Be good.”  
This is – this is the other part of it then?   
He would like to say he needs a moment to think about it but he actually doesn’t at all. Yes. Fuck. How did he not know he was into this? He bites his lip and looks up and tries to fucking calm down.

Hunk moves Keith again so they are somehow even closer together – he swears he can feel Hunk’s heartbeat – and starts making out with where his neck meets his jaw, glints of teeth, tongue and the tingly lovely contact of his stubble. His hands roam around his back, scratching gently, then not so gently, and then he – slowly, waiting for Keith to tell him no, he realizes – cups his ass.  
His hands are right there.   
Hunk squeezes, and he grinds forward without meaning to, and, sounding a lot more flustered than before, Hunk says “Would you mind if I laid you down?”

Keith is not close to coming but the state of waiting for Hunk’s quiet, intense questions, for his surprising and talented hands, and his body being played like a violin means that – he’s something, alright. He’s close to something. 

While he’s contemplating this, Hunk is busy. Keith tells himself to pull it together when he feels fleeting sadness at the loss of contact but his human brain understands its necessity in the process of becoming horizontal. He hopes he still has a human brain, to be honest. Tonight’s shook up a lot of stuff. 

A thought occurs.   
“How do you feel about taking off your shirt, big guy?”  
His motives are as follows: he has seen Hunk’s arms before and he would really like to again.   
Hunk sputters and blushes, but complies, seizing it at the back and pulling it over his head so his hair ruffles. 

Keith doesn’t say anything for a slow minute, but reaches forward before he even thinks about it. 

“You can touch me until I say no,” Hunk says, raising an eyebrow.   
He is – he is really big. There he sits, disarming and serene, huge hands on his knees. Except that’s he’s shirtless, which doesn’t happen much compared to the rate of shirtlessness of everyone else on this damn ship, a pity really considering the way his soft belly curves out over his trousers, and his arms which are as thick as Keith’s entire torso, he’s pretty sure. If he wasn’t already lying down he’d stumble.   
Then – his pecs, they’re so soft. Unconsciously, he licks his lips. 

At this, Hunk flushes again.   
“Do you want me to take care of you or not, Keith. Make up your mind. Do I have to do it myself?”   
Keith has to look up to make sure the sudden brisk tone is an act, even as he hurries to comply, so Hunk doesn’t get mad, but – oh. He’s smiling, red still on his cheeks. 

Things get interesting when Hunk, having watched him become horizontal as fast as physically possible, leans over him and carefully puts a knee between Keith’s. Then a strong arm either side.   
“Be good, okay?” is the last thing he hears, before Hunk kisses him.   
In the same motion he pushes that leg up and for the first time tonight (and it feel like the first time in ever, with how long he’s been wound up) someone, fucking finally, touches his dick, and even through the layers of fabric it’s the best thing he’s ever felt.  
His hands clench in the covers, and again and again, like the sea, Hunk keeps kissing him hard and rocking back and forth, too slow for anything except driving him wild.   
The size of him compared to Keith, the sound of his steady, deep breaths, the weight he can’t quite keep off his chest, he honestly does not know what’s happening but he loves it, loves it.

“How about,” he whispers into Keith’s ear, after some time is passed and his lip is sore from biting, “I do what I promised to do, how does that sound, huh?”  
Only Hunk’s reflexes prevent him from being knocked in the face by his frantic nod. Please. “Please Hunk,” he breathes, and feels gratified that Hunk swallows too, seemingly overwhelmed whenever they actually look at each other. 

Then he opens his trousers and pulls out Keith’s dick from where it’s straining against his underwear.   
He smiles, the same satisfied smile that Hunk uses when something goes right after a long day of it not, and says, “You can put your hands in my hair but if you pull too hard I’m off.”

“S-Sure.”

His stomach is jumping, and his mouth is a desert, and little noises keep falling from his mouth that he’s never thought he’d make, but he can’t keep his eyes off him, knowing everything, certain, holding Keith’s future in his capable hands.  
To his disappointment, Hunk kisses his hipbones, carefully avoiding his swaying dick after that first wild touch, but then he puts his fingers in his plush mouth.  
Next thing is the feeling of the hot, wet fingers in the space between his balls and his asshole, which shouldn’t be as shocking as it is, but his hips fly up and his stomach twists. He’s so close but he knows he can’t until Hunk lets him, and he might keep teasing him forever and then he’s certainly going to die. It really only took him ten minutes to completely lose his pride, huh.   
“Hunk.”  
“What?” Like he doesn’t know.   
“Please suck my dick –“

Hunk grunts, a small satisfied noise, and leans his arm and a good bit of his weight on Keith’s hips and puts his lips where he’s been aching for it and takes him slow, slow. 

He wants to move so badly. He always wants to move, to be doing something.   
But the strength of Hunk, forcing him to be still and to take what he’s given for the first time in his life - that’s good. That’s actually very good.   
The tenderness of Hunk’s mouth is at a complete contrast to how taken apart he feels.   
It coils in the root of him, muffled thoughts and revelations and the cleanness of the things he’s feeling, for Hunk, for how well he must know him to give him this thing he didn’t even know he wanted, and when it comes it takes him entirely by surprise. It’s deep and pulled out from his chest, and he hears someone say, “Now that wasn’t so bad was it?”

For a good grasp of time, all he can manage is to lie down and pant and try to catch his breath, big whooshes of air compensating for his lightheadedness. Hot damn. Hot damn. The bed is the most comfortable thing in the world.   
He hears a gulp and, fuzzy, raises his head, to the wondrous sight of a red-faced Hunk fumbling with his trousers and pulling out his own erection, which is certainly proportional, holy shit. Like, even though it’s been a literal minute, he has ideas, watching him.   
Kneeling, with just his flies undone and eyes tightly closed, getting a hand on himself for the first time and making, honestly, the most beautiful, almost silent noise Keith had ever heard, well – he can’t help himself. A vision, and gets to see it and make him feel that way.   
“Hunk,” he whispers, wild with everything.  
Hunk opens his eyes and his face lights up to see Keith, like he’d forgotten he was there. All urgency droops from his broad shoulders. He shivers to see his dick twist in his fist, looking over at Keith like he could eat him, still so hungry. 

“Can I come on you? Tell me I can come on you, Keith,” Hunk almost growls.  
“’Course, come on, come on,” and it’s a couple of strokes longer then he does and it’s very wonderful, with the urgency gone he can appreciate how everything feels, even though it maybe should be gross it’s all in this one thing where they move in this space together and normal rules don’t apply, so he just hums and looks lazily from under his lashes and hopes it’s a good view. 

Hunk collapses next to him on the bed, which bounces and settles with his weight. His face is glowing with a grin that he probably doesn’t know he has, and Keith thinks suddenly how handsome and kind he is.   
“Oh my gosh, Keith. Fuck.”  
Keith, feeling delighted and very relaxed, curls into Hunk and says, “Yeah, fuck.”  
“That was something. Wow.”  
“Mm, yeah.”  
A beat, where they both look at the ceiling, suddenly sleepy.   
“Can I stay over?” he asks, which he only does because he probably looks a mess and Lance will rib him without mercy when he sees him, and not because he is so, so satisfied at this moment, with the press of Hunk along one side.

Hunk laughs and turns to face him.   
“Of course. You idiot.”  
His fringe has flopped out of the headband and frames his face, and he leans forward to kiss Keith again and squeezes his arm like he can’t get enough of him. 

Yeah, he thinks this was a pretty good idea.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> soft boys ! i love them so much  
> gonna be more smut next chapter too !  
> just took a while for them to realise what they wanted :)

When Keith wakes up, it takes him a good couple of seconds to figure out where he is.   
There's someone sleeping next to him, and although that hasn't happened since he was very small, it doesn't scare him.   
Shh. Breathe. Wait, before panicking.   
It's Hunk.  
He's sleeping in Hunk's bed, because he slept over last night, after what was very likely the best sex of his life, with someone he likes and trusts a whole lot. 

Keith allows himself one moment of victory smile (which is as close as he gets to fist-pumping), because last night was good. 

He shifts, completely and suddenly awake. It's a talent. One that, evidently, Hunk does not share, he notes, as Hunk grunts, and rolls towards the warm space he's left.   
Keith's heart clenches, because Hunk looks so soft and tender and he's frowning slightly. He wants to tuck his messy fringe behind an ear, or kiss him, but they haven't really been dating for that long and that might be a bit - you know. Extra. Eager. 

Keith contents himself with looking at his face for a bit. 

Then the alarm goes off.

It's loud enough that Keith jumps and swears, but Hunk merely mumbles something and buries his face into the pillow.   
The clock, which turns out to be the glowing Altean numbers somehow embedded in Hunk's bedside table, shows a time which he realizes is actually really early.   
So why? He's not one to get up when he doesn't have to, Keith knows that. 

He turns back to Hunk opening his eyes, looking blurred and warm. 

"Good morning," he says, smile small and lopsided.   
"Hey." He can't speak. How can anyone look this good just woken up?  
"So, uh."  
They rush to speak at once, almost whispering.   
"You first," says Keith. 

Eyes half open, from under his lashes, he speaks quietly. "Keith I'm real sorry, but I have a meeting today and I have to leave super early because apparently their species is only awake at specific hours of the morning."  
Keith's stomach drops.   
"Uh, yeah. That was what I was gonna say too. That I need to go. So."  
Seeing right through him, Hunk reaches up and rests his hand on his cheek for a second.  
"I was also going to say, last night was really nice. So I'm sad to go."

"Uh. Me too."  
Hunk yawns like a hippo but stays in the same position, as settled as anyone could be. 

"I gotta ask though. Why did you ask me over when you have to go to this thing so early?"

Hunk blushes. "'Cos I couldn't not, when I finally got the courage up to ask you!"

Then he's up and out, wearing his boxers and socks, looking away. "Lights on," he mutters, and the twilight secret place between them is broken and revealed to be Hunk's unmysterious and messy room. 

"You can just ask them to turn on? Huh."  
Without realizing it he's standing too, following Hunk as he does the busy things that make up morning.

It gets his attention back again.  
"You really didn't know that?"

"Seems like I could learn a lot from you, huh."

Hunk raises an eyebrow and hip bumps him, but they end up too close. 

"Seems like maybe you could," he breathes, but Keith feels small and pinned under his dark gaze and gulps, until Hunk coughs and laughs.

"Stop being so - so pretty. You're distracting me, and I think - yeah, I am - I'm already late."

But he smiles again to soften the blow, and kisses him quick and hard, and reluctantly Keith falls out the door, grinning like an idiot. 

"I'll be back by tonight. Wish me luck!"

It's all he can do to stumble back to his room and fall onto his bed, because wow. 

 

This is one of the times that Hunk wishes they had phones.   
He's asked, sure, but Allura says that the most important thing is to keep an atmosphere without secrets, and all the stuff they might want to hide are shared through the Voltron bond anyway, and if he has anything he wants to talk about he can tell her directly.  
She said this with a very slight smirk so it's likely she has her own personal communicator. Whatever. 

When anything like this ever happened on Earth, Hunk would text Lance with all the details, immediately, and then they would thrash it out until it made sense and Hunk could plan his next action and do that so he didn't have to worry as much (except he always did). 

Instead he sits in a meeting and lectures about how the propulsion systems of the Lions could be utilized in making movable cities to escape the seasonal floods on Falt'chen's planet. It's not that he's not interested in it - because he could really talk about the Lions all day and it's what he ends up doing a lot of the time anyway - but it's last night, and this morning, that is consuming his attention to the point where it's definitely noticeable. 

He's not sure when he first realized that he liked that kind of thing.   
He had a girlfriend and they sure didn't do anything like that.  
(They held hands a lot, actually. It was years ago and her name was Amaya. Weird to think of her now.)  
It probably has something to do with how he likes knowing everything about a situation and planning for it, but - whatever - it doesn't matter how it came about. What he would love to text Lance is about is how he managed to ask Keith and he said yes and then he just went down and - liked it. He liked it. 

He likes Keith a whole lot, that's the thing, and he's been nervous, delicious nervous, around him, since they started "going out". They've known each other for a while now, and he thought the butterflies were gone, but -  
Hmm. That was the first time he didn't feel nervous?   
Hmm. 

Someone raises a feathery limb to ask a question and he shakes his head. This is not the time to think about the sounds he made, or his shocked and wide open expression as he -

"Yes, Commander Briltain?"

 

Keith didn't think he would be gone for so long - it was really early when he left, and it's anything but that now, and he's starting to worry, absurdly, pacing on the bridge and the hangar, waiting.   
Lance too. He tries to hide when he's worried but he reads him well enough now. They brush anxious shoulders a hundred times in the kitchen and get into a fight that resolves in drinking their juice packs in stoic silence. 

It's almost the safest kind of mission that any of them could do, the safest sector they've been in for months, a hundred miles from combat. Hunk is basically doing a seminar. 

This is how it always starts, though. You think it's OK, and then. And then. 

Keith places his hands together and thinks of Hunk being all earnest and enthusiastic to a group of aliens who think he's amazing, maybe wearing the enormous round glasses he's picked up recently. He's OK. This is ridiculous. He's - 

The lights on the bridge flash in a way that means a call is coming in. Relief washes over him so hard and unexpected he almost falls over.   
"Pick up call!" blurts out Lance, who he hadn't realized was sitting so close.

The holographic form of Hunk flickers into view. He's turned to the side, talking to someone.   
"No, I'll come to the meal in a second, I need to get through to - oh hey guys!"

"Hunk! Where have you been!" Lance almost screams.   
"Well, uh, I've been trying to get through all afternoon, there's some kind of weather pattern around this planet that prevents transmission between midday and late."

He takes a proper look at them both, and his expression changes to sheepish.

"I hadn't realized you guys were so worried, we really need better comms, huh? I was actually just thinking about making some phone-ish things for all of us, but -"

"When are you getting back?" interrupts someone, and it turns out to be Keith.  
Hunk turns and smiles, full force. "Soon! Although it's really interesting here and I think we can do good work for them, they are basically a bunch of weird birds. Is that alienist? There's not a lot to talk about, is what I'm saying."

Nervous, in full sight of Lance, Hunk kisses his palm and blows it towards Keith.   
Keith feels his face go bright red.   
"See you soon! It should only be a night or two away, I'll keep you all updated. And, uh. Be good. Don't break anything too valuable, ok?"

He turns to the side again, worried, and says "Ok I really have to go! Bye!" and the hologram fizzles out. 

Immediately, Lance turns to Keith with an expression that instantly changes his mood from fuzzy and warm (be good?!) to terrified. 

"So it's like that, huh?" says Lance, holding out a long finger.   
"Like what?" he spits back, defensive.  
"Like blowing kisses, you know what I mean."  
"It wasn't like that yesterday! I don't know what's happening either!"

Lance crosses his arms. "I choose to believe you for now. And, keep in mind, the only reason I'm not grilling you further is because you're terrible at gossip."

 

It's a long, tiring, couple of days. It turns out to be two nights away, because of course, but he also gets an unconditional promise of loyalty and some really good recipes. 

Flying back, listening to Pidge's mixtape that she culled from her enormous collection (called Fire Emoji, appropriately), he lets himself think about Keith.   
Well. It's not like he wasn't thinking of him before, but now he doesn't have to be professional, so it's ok to think about kissing him and how much he wants to do it again. As well as other things. 

Oh god, was blowing the kiss too much? Lance is going to roast him.

Shit, maybe he hated the Night and he wants to stop being his boyfriend.   
Shit, shit, shit.   
He turns the volume up. 

 

Keith is not on the deck when he comes back, which is good, because it means that he doesn't have to see Hunk's close-to-panic state. He can scream for Lance and they can have a tasty, in depth conversation about everything that's happening. Thank God someone on this ship knows how to gossip.  
(That's a lie - Allura basically lives for it, but for some strange reason she is not the person he wants to talk to right now.)

Lance pops his head around the door of the bay. "Hunk! You're back!"

"I am! And I have some things to tell you. You got a minute or, hmm, maybe more like an hour?"

Lance's face lights up and he cracks his knuckles.  
"For you, anything."  
Hunk loves his friends almost as much as he hates his anxiety. 

Half an hour later, after Hunk has sweated and stuttered his way through as much as he can stomach divulging, Lance is sitting with his cup of space tea on his knee and a thoughtful expression. 

"So. Lance. You, um, you always say you're the sexpert. What do I do now?"

Lance takes a sip and rests a hand on Hunk's shoulder. 

"I gotta say, I wouldn't have expected Keith to be a sub. But: I guess that's the way it goes."

Hunk almost spits out his drink. "You - you've thought about this?" 

Lance raises a perfect eyebrow. "Duh. I have eyes, you know. Even if I also have like, a brain, so I managed to get over my crush - which was based on cheekbones alone - sometime in the first six months of knowing him. Unlike you." They elbow each other, which budges Hunk not at all from his position on the sofa.  
(Keith and Lance are actually good friends now. People often think they're dating because they fight so intensely and without consideration for anyone else. Apparently that's friendship. Hunk personally thinks it looks very stressful.)

"It sounds like you're both into it, which - hey. Good start. But if your feelings are doing weird things then you should probably also have a talk about what you want to happen, both in and out of the bedroom." 

Lance is oddly good at advice sometimes, even if it sounds like it came from one of his Mama's fashion magazines. 

"OK. Sure. OK." 

Lance smiles. "So - more importantly - any hot birds on Falt'chen? You've still got those business cards I got printed, right?" which is just so - so ridiculous that all the tension he's feeling shakes out with his laughter.

 

Keith thinks about avoiding Hunk for like, four hours, and then he realizes it's stupid.  
Luckily those four hours fall into the first day of Hunk's impromptu work weekend, saying smart things to aliens, so when he does come back Keith is mostly over himself.

Mostly.   
(Some gladiators did not fare as well from the waiting game.)

He tries to keep it cool but he kind of wants to be near Hunk all day, all night, all - what is happening to him?   
He wants to call him, but Hunk said the weather is weird so it probably wouldn't go through.   
Sure: he likes Hunk but it's never been this intense before, this needy. If he could talk about it he would. If he even knew what was happening or if he could put it into words he would. Pidge probably has a machine that can turn these weird twisty things inside him into neat code, but maybe no-one else needs to know. Apart from. Well. The obvious culprit. 

"Oh! Keith! Hey."

The two of them, almost inseparable years after the Garrison threw them together, are sitting in the kitchen and drinking something out of floating mugs. Lance raises a hand, cool.   
(He still somehow feels this need to act out some invisible battle when there are other people about.)

"Oh, hey." But his eyes are on - you know who. 

"You okay, dude?" he asks, ever considerate.   
No, obviously, but he can't talk about it here, not with -

Lance yawns, and stretches and in a matter of seconds, pecks Hunk on the cheek like he's saying goodnight - which, in retrospect, it's mid-afternoon so it doesn't quite clock but he's also not in the mood to complain - and says something that could be interpreted as "Well, that's my cue!"  
Hunk blushes.   
But he's gone, and it's them, together, alone. 

He fills up the space differently, together, alone. 

This is why he's been thinking about it all day, but it wasn't the same without him here, without the minute details of hair and presence and deep, even breathing. 

He smiles, but it's one of them where it starts at his mouth and ends somewhere in the corners of the room, that deep and confident. Keith tries to not shiver, or pant, or do anything ridiculous. A lot has changed in a very short period of time. 

He puts his mug down and stands up. "You wanna come back to mine, and -"

"And make out?", Keith says, eager, in on the joke.   
They laugh for a second, then Hunk says "Let's go somewhere more private, ok?"

 

"I wanted to talk about last night with you, Keith. Also about like, what this is, all of that."

The door to his room is barely closed and Hunk thinks he has to say something instead of wildly holding him and doing - doing something. He has to keep the space between them for a second, held off with words. 

Keith shrinks back and away from him. Hunk takes one second to think about what he just blurted out.   
"No! No - no. Not like that. It was great. Keith, that was. That was great. I've been losing my mind thinking about it, and about you. I just think that I didn't really talk things properly and, um, safely, maybe because I didn't expect you to like it so much - although I'm so glad you did oh my gosh -"  
Hunk becomes aware he's rambling. It is not condusive to any of the myriad things he's trying to do this afternoon. Because they are friends and something more now, he does what he used to do when he was small and needed to get a hold on himself.

He closes his eyes and breathes and thinks about what he wants to say and how he wants to say it.   
Open.   
Beautiful boy, still there. What more does someone need?  
On impulse he reaches forward and touches his cheek, runs his hand - so big and rough compared to Keith's skin, like he might break him, ridiculous the size difference but it's doing something crazy to his head - and Keith sighs and turns towards it and doesn't look away. 

"Hey, honey. How was your day?" 

Keith gives a little smile, like he doesn't know he's doing it. He watches his lips. 

"Pretty good. Yeah. I was thinking about you, actually. I think I want to talk about how I feel but also really -"  
"Really not. Yeah." They chuckle into each other again. 

"Aw, fuck it," and they lean forward and all of Hunk's plans dissolve so easy as they touch.


End file.
